“Looks like Brian made his hourly call,” Cassidy commented drily. “The guy torments her with his constant checkup calls.” Cass turned back to the table. “I don’t see how she puts up with him. He’s a stalker waiting to happen.”
“Are we having breakfast or has something happened?” Kira wanted to know as she took the only other vacant seat at the table for four. Any irritation with her boyfriend had been erased from her expression. “You sounded worried when you called,” she said to Lacy.
Cassidy looked pointedly at her. “Maybe now we’ll find out the reason.”
Guilt pinged Lacy but she’d be damned if she would let it show. As much as she loved Cassidy she was treading on Lacy’s last nerve and this whole thing had scarcely begun. They could be stuck in purgatory for weeks. Maybe the others were dealing with it better than her…except for Melinda, of course, but something had to give. She couldn’t take the pressure. It didn’t matter that she dealt with enormous stress every day on the job…this was different.
“I was afraid to talk about it on the phone,” she began quietly. Take it slow, she reminded herself. “If we’re suspects, they could be listening in on our phone calls.” Being seen together in public wasn’t a problem. They’d grown up here, people expected them to come together in support of each during a crisis.
Both Kira’s and Melinda’s eyes widened with renewed concern.
“Jesus, Lace,” Cassidy huffed with a roll of her eyes, “you’ve been watching too many crime dramas.” She looked from one worried woman to the next. “Tapping a phone line takes a court order. A court order takes justification and time.” She shook her head slowly side to side. “Our friendly chief of police hasn’t had either. No judge in his right mind is going to allow such an invasion of privacy without evidence. Besides, we just got here yesterday. We really don’t have to worry about anything of that nature just yet.”
Lacy felt her tension ease marginally. She’d been so damned worried and keyed up all night, she’d tossed and turned, barely managing a wink of sleep. The image of Rick Summers rushed into her thoughts and she pushed him away. He wasn’t the primary reason she hadn’t slept last night. It was the call.
“So what happened, Lacy?” Cassidy prompted. “What’s got you so uptight this morning?”
Lacy clasped her hands in her lap, thankful for the cover of the table so no one would see the nervous gesture. “Rick Summers came to see me last night.” This got the whole table’s undivided attention. She should get this part out of the way first. “He outright accused us of keeping something secret related to Charles’s murder.”
Melinda gasped and Cassidy draped her arm around her shoulders in a comforting gesture.
“Take it slow,” Cassidy said to Lacy, “and tell me exactly what he said.”
“Would you ladies like coffee?”
As if too afraid to make their own decisions, Melinda and Kira looked to Cassidy. “Black,” she said. “And one of those doughnuts.” Cassidy jerked her head toward the covered dish on the counter.
“Same here,” Kira said, following suit, her smile appearing almost genuine.
“Just coffee,” Melinda said, “with cream.”
The waitress left and Lacy gave Cassidy the details she remembered with far too much clarity. “Rick suggested that Charles had hurt Melinda, that he’d possibly hurt her many times. He didn’t come right out and say it, but I think he believes we’re involved in what happened to Charles.”
There was dead silence from the three women seated around Lacy as she went on. “He warned that he wouldn’t quit until he knew the truth. He is certain we’re hiding something. He tried to strong-arm me into coming clean, as he put it.” Lacy shook her head. “He even promised to protect us if we told him the truth.”
Lacy had expected the fear and the worry she saw on the faces of her friends, but what she hadn’t expected was the accusation she saw in Cassidy’s eyes.
“Why did he come to you?”
The question took Lacy aback. No one, not even Melinda, knew about the night she and Rick had shared…or the attraction she’d felt for him back in high school. That she still felt something made her furious, especially considering the current circumstances, but some part of her understood intrinsically that she could not share that snippet of her past with her friends. And that felt even more wrong. They’d always shared everything…even murder. But Rick was the enemy now.
Before she could stop herself, Lacy looked away. Perfect. How much guiltier could she act?
“I don’t know.” She forced herself to reconnect with Cassidy, whose suspicion seemed to mount. “Maybe because Mel and I were always so close. I guess he thought I would know her deepest, darkest secrets. Or maybe he thinks I killed Charles to save her. Whatever the reason,” she said bluntly, allowing her annoyance to show, “he intends to find out what we’re hiding. He made that point very clear.”
“First of all,” Cassidy explained, her expression relaxing, going from suspicious to knowing, “he has his first murder case and absolutely no evidence. Summers is like any other cop, he doesn’t want to look bad to those who keep him in office. He needs a suspect. Melinda is the logical choice since she’s the spouse. He’s going to follow that line of reasoning until he has something better to consider. Let’s face it, in cases like this, more often than not the spouse is the perpetrator.”
Cassidy made the whole thing sound so simple, so logical. But her deduction didn’t appear to make Melinda feel any better. She stared at the table, as if meeting the eyes of her friends was suddenly too difficult.
Before Lacy could say something to smooth over Cassidy’s insensitive remark about spouses and perpetrators, the waitress arrived with their coffee.
“Thank you, that’s all,” Cassidy said, dismissing the waitress before turning her attention back to the table. “We’re Melinda’s best friends, so, of course, we’re suspects as well.” She made a scoffing sound in her throat. “Well, the closest thing to suspects he’s got right now. You have to realize that he’s desperate to solve this as quickly as possible. All persons of interest are going to be under close scrutiny. He’ll apply pressure wherever he thinks he can.”
Cassidy continued in that vein, but Lacy’s attention was diverted by the man who entered the diner next—Brad Brewer, one of Rick’s deputies, judging by his uniform. He climbed onto a stool at the bar, placed his order, then promptly settled his full regard on their table. She looked away too quickly. She cursed herself for letting the whole world see how guilty she felt. Why hadn’t she smiled at him? She remembered him from high school. Football. Handsome, popular with the girls. But now he was a cop and that made him a potential enemy. It also made her as nervous as hell.
She hated this! She studied her half-empty cup and wrestled with the need to squirm in her seat. She might as well warn the others. “Brad Brewer just walked in. He’s wearing a deputy’s uniform and looking directly at us.” This whole thing was insane. How could they just keep pretending that all was as it should be?
Kira’s sharp intake of breath punctuated Lacy’s announcement, giving her something else to be confused about. Then again, maybe Kira was feeling just as uneasy as Lacy.
“Ignore him,” Cassidy ordered. “You have to stop letting these guys get to you. I’m telling you they’re on a fishing expedition and you’re giving them far too much bait. They don’t have anything on us. They won’t have anything unless one of us stupidly gives it to them.”
Cassidy was right. Lacy closed her eyes a second and fought to regain her composure. She had to get a grip here. The cops had nothing on them. They had nothing period. The only way anyone would know what happened